


The Last of Us: Part 2

by rainjays



Category: The Last of Us
Genre: AU, Canon LGBTQ Character, F/F, LGBTQ Female Character, LGBTQ Jewish Character(s), LGBTQ Themes, Semi AU, TLOU, TLOU2, VideoGame, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:41:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24870964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainjays/pseuds/rainjays
Summary: It's been four years since Ellie and Joel arrived back in Jackson, Wyoming, after a year traversing the U.S. in search of the light--the Fireflies, the last organization to still be researching for a cure to the cordyceps infection, only to arrive to find that light snuffed out. Since then, Ellie has been trying to adapt to a new way of life, neither the military world Marlene had left her to grow up in, nor the torn up country she and Joel had struggled to survive in. Inside the walls of Jackson, it's easy to let the brutal outside world slip away. But even in rural Wyoming, Ellie can't hide from her past, and as it catches up to her, she must confront her conflicting identities and beliefs to make sense of the torn-up world and, eventually, find peace.The Last of Us: Part 2 was divisive, and not always in the right ways. I aim to retell the same story without the odd narrative choices and confusing motives that the game does, and to add the light that made the original game brighten the darkness in our realities.
Relationships: Dina & Ellie (The Last of Us), Dina/Ellie (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us), Ellie/Joel (The Last of Us)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 69





	1. Yet Another Truth Buried

Joel

Spring, 2034

It had only taken twenty-one years, give or take a few months, but after a few weeks of settling into life at Jackson, Joel finally began relaxing into a new normal. He still found himself jumping at every noise--which was no rare thing, given the relative liveliness of the town compared to the emptiness of the abandoned interstates and war torn cities he’d become accustomed to--but there was an inherent  _ warmth _ to Jackson that brought ease to tense muscles and aching wounds. He’d forgotten the small pleasures of clean, linen sheets and regular hot meals, of fresh socks, shampooed hair, a beard neatly trimmed. He was even more grateful for the things he’d never before considered luxuries. Jackson had electricity, and therefore working street lights and tube TV’s. The people had access to a considerable collection of books, games, and movies and pursued their own hobbies and interests with the items scavenged by patrols and traded from passerby. Some even had pets, cats and dogs with no particular purpose except to keep company and entertain.

It all brought Joel back to a time before his life had become a living hell; back to Texas, when things had been perhaps not great, but  _ good _ .

Ellie was having a harder time adjusting. After a few nights in the Barracks--temporary lodging for new civilians--Maria assigned them housing. There was a two bedroom farmhouse, she said, closer to the outskirts of town, further away from the bustle of Jackson proper. It needed some work, but it immediately felt like home to him; he’d even found one of those comics of Ellie’s in the second bedroom, which had its own exit to the backyard and bathroom. Ellie could have her independence, and for the first time in her life settle into a proper home. But then she decided to live on her own. 

So, Maria placed her in a converted shed in the town proper. There was a nice, older couple and their granddaughter living in the house it once belonged to, and they made sure Ellie had something to eat on the nights she holed up inside, rather than visit Maria’s diner, which happened more often than not. Joel scarcely saw her except while working, which Ellie jumped into with vigor. Tommy’d started her on the horses, and then on expanding the perimeter wall, and before long she was doing a little bit of everything except for patrols, since she was too young. Tommy said such a busy schedule was by her request.

Joel didn’t contest it. He tried to give her space, and focused instead on repairing the farmhouse. He hauled a spare mattress and bedframe into that second room, just in case, but also set up a workbench where he could fix up the guitar Tommy had brought him. It wasn’t too bad off--just needed some varnish, a little sanding, and new strings. But he wanted to add something special to it as well.

He was adding the finishing touches while he sat with Tommy in an abandoned house a few miles outside of town. They were meant to be on patrol, but the area surrounding Jackson had been peaceful since they’d left last fall, with the exception of a few wandering Runners, and though he wouldn’t admit it, he was getting old. Often halfway through a route his side would begin to ache and Tommy would insist that he rest. Said it wouldn’t ever heal if he pushed things too far. It was pointless to argue.

Their rifles leaned against the wall and they sat in sagging armchairs, the guitar between Joel’s knees as he rubbed his microfibre cloth against the fretboard, smoothing over the delicately painted moth above the third fret. The back and forth motion was soothing somewhat as he pushed his mind to remember not the lie, but the truth. When Tommy had finally asked about what happened back in Salt Lake he’d first thought to give him the same story he gave Ellie, but if there was one person he could give the truth to, it would be his little brother.

The truth that they’d driven away from Salt Lake not because the Fireflies had given up, but because Joel had refused to let go.

“I don’t know what happened. I was supposed to take her to the Fireflies and walk away.”

Joel was never much of a storyteller, so his account of the months between Jackson and Utah was spotty, at best. But he did tell Tommy everything. Each piece of their story felt like a weight on his shoulders, slowing him down and probably causing the bags under his eyes and the grey hairs and the wrinkles--somehow, though, each story he shared aloud lifted the weight just enough for him to keep going despite the knot his stomach had twisted itself into.

“You go halfway across the country with someone… She needed her immunity to mean something. Maybe I was starting to buy into that whole… cure business. Maybe I just wanted to do right by her. And then we made it. We found the Fireflies. Because of her, they were actually going to make a  _ cure _ .”

He remembered the computerized beeping as he burst into the room. Rhythmic. Steady. Calm. She was still alive, and so terribly small laying on a stainless steel table and dwarfed in an oversized gown decorated with faded farm animals. The two nurses were at her head, one with an electric razor in hand, the other lifting Ellie’s ponytail, still wet from the flooded interstate. That image was remarkably less threatening after Joel noticed the surgeon standing opposite, with what he could only imagine had been a surgical saw.

“The only catch… it would kill her.”

There was silence for a few moments, interrupted only by the soft sound of the microfibre against the fret until Tommy finally said: “Jesus Christ, Joel. What’d you do?” 

“I saved her.”

It would have killed her, and he wouldn’t have even had a chance to say goodbye. Marlene had made sure of that. The Fireflies had found them half drowned in a highway tunnel and beat Joel unconscious while he was trying to save her. In the time he was out, they’d resuscitated her… only to immediately drug her for surgery. Traveled halfway across the country, and that was the thanks he got?

Marlene had left him with absolutely no choice. 

“Goddamn. That’s, uhm. That’s a lot. What does Ellie know?”

Ellie only knew the lie, and Joel would make sure that she never knew any different.

“We should head back,” Tommy was abrupt, tight lipped. Joel recognized that look--it was the same look his younger brother had often given him years ago, when he was about to make questionable choices. Dangerous choices. 

“Yeah.” Joel got up, tucked the microfiber cloth into his pocket, and strapped the guitar to his back before following Tommy outside to where their horses waited.

They were silent on the way back to Jackson, though the path they followed was loud. Wildlife sheltered in the beautiful early summer foliage, living in the lush flora that had invaded once manicured lawns and paved roads. They passed a rusted car where a young tree grew out the shattered sun roof, and a front yard where what once was a small garden now grew a wild nest of berry bushes. There was a thick dusting of yellow pollen layered over the tops of almost anything stationary, except where their rubber soled boots and their horses hooves had upset the natural carpeting. In their year traveling, he and Ellie had seen many towns just like this one. It was unique, though, in that it was the same neighborhood where they’d found Ellie last fall, when he’d nearly left her behind.

It wasn’t a mistake he’d make twice.

As they approached the gates, Tommy called out to a guard--his first words on the trip back--and men pushed the double doors open for them to ride in. Joel preferred this gate to all the others. It opened directly into Jackson proper, where old city square shops had been revitalized for trade. He could smell fresh bread from Lori’s bakery, and something meaty from further back where Maria’s diner was. It was late enough that he could even hear the children playing in the streets. Jackson had many, many children.

They dismounted, and Joel gathered his horses reins in one hand. There were stables just past the gates, with groundhands available day and night for the patrol routes. Convenient in case of an emergency, but Joel preferred to untack Austin himself. Tommy stuck out his hand before he could, though; “I’ve got it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. You go on.”

“All right.” He grabbed his pack from the saddle, hesitating for just a moment longer, in case Tommy changed his mind.

“Now, about what we were talkin’ about earlier…” His brother was looking out, past the gates, lips still pressed into a tight line. “I can’t say I’d have done any different. I’ll take it to the grave, if I have to.”

Their eyes met, and Joel realized that what he saw there wasn’t quite the same Tommy he remembered from ten years ago. There was a different understanding there, something much older, and from yet another truth he’d rather not revisit.

But the truth is that nobody can run from their past. Joel had never much believed in karma, even less so with the things he’d seen in the last twenty years, but that nagging feeling, the same nagging feeling Tess had left in him with their parting words all the way back in Massachusetts when he’d left his life behind for a new normal over one, immune, fourteen year old girl--that nagging feeling was worming its way through the pit of his stomach as he carried that guitar to Ellie’s, suddenly not quite certain of the future he’d secured for the person he loved most in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continue reading for a preview of chapter two..
> 
> \--
> 
> Ellie was fighting hard not to swallow back the lump in her throat as Dina rested against her shoulder, so close that her dark hair tickled Ellie’s nose. “Every guy in this room is staring at you right now,” Ellie breathed. Harvey--she wasn’t quite sure why it was now that she could remember his damn name--was practically shooting daggers over the head of his current dance partner. That wasn’t so bad as the look Jesse gave her from across the room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking as lonely as Joel’s guitar did in the moments before he averted his gaze and pretended to be busy with the hem of his shirt.
> 
> Dina shifted her head up, her lips grazing Ellie’s ear. “Maybe they’re staring at you,”
> 
> “They’re not.”
> 
> “Maybe they’re jealous of you,”
> 
> Ellie frowned. “I’m... just a girl. Not a threat.”
> 
> They were so close to each other that Ellie could see herself in Dina’s eyes, could feel Dina’s breath meet her own--though Ellie was hardly breathing as the woman in her arms reached up and caressed the side of her face, tucking that stubborn lock of hair over her ear before rubbing her thumb over the nape of Ellie’s neck. Such simple, light touches, and yet she felt electricity run down her spine, and struggled not to shiver.
> 
> And then Dina kissed her.


	2. Just a Normal Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really bad at beginning and ending chapters don't judge me. I'll edit it later (much, much later)
> 
> I felt like this scene (and the one that comes after) are too important to have waited until the end of the damn game, it leaves a lot of context out of Ellie's emotional state and development. I'd rather flashback to something we actually see in the narrative, than flashback to something new (looking at you, hotel-guitar-string scene), since it elaborates on the meaning of something we're already familiar with.
> 
> I also tried to give some extra context to Ellie's behavior, partly because it's been *four years* and a lot has happened since then, but partly because as a written narrative it's difficult to describe all those little dialogue pauses and moments in a fluid way. Naughty Dog is so incredibly expressive with their animations and it's amazing, and I wanted to capture everything we see on Ellie's face in that scene on paper, from the regret after she yells at Joel to her surprise when Dina kisses her. It's also kind of fun to just add my own little pieces of canon into the world; we get to see Jackson so briefly and yet what we see is so interesting and grabbing and I'd love so much to see more of it.
> 
> And finally, if you're looking for some musical accompaniment while you read, the two songs played during this scene are Little Sadie and Ecstasy, both by Crooked Still.

Ellie

Winter, 2039…

… Five years later

Although she wanted nothing more than to be home, working on her latest doodle or rereading _Savage Starlight_ , Ellie found herself in the old town barn, nursing a whiskey and watching a couple dozen dancers kick up hay and dirt as they performed some silly old folk dance. The barn was loud, and hot, and bright, but she reminded herself that she at least wasn’t stuck with another overnight patrol. Last time she’d used a patrol to get out of a social event, she got stuck cleaning our runner herds from the nearby strip mall all night, and runner guts from her hair and nail bed all morning, only to do it all again that afternoon. She could make small talk for a few hours if it meant a good night’s sleep and an easy morning route. 

Fortunately, she’d avoided most of the small talk, the worst part of parties by far. She’d come in just after everyone had eaten and found a spot by the bar that had a great view of the entire affair yet avoided the main thoroughfare of drunk partygoers and raucous children. It was the perfect spot to people watch. 

Dina wasn’t hard to spot from where she took center stage, twisting and twirling with Harry? Henry?--some newcomer that had just arrived from somewhere upstate alongside his little sister and their grandmother. She draped herself over him like an ornament with her head thrown back, laughing as he spun her around and around. Ellie wished she could hear her over the energetic music. 

Up on the loft was the band, a couple playing a pair of string instruments and a tall, lanky woman at the microphone, teetering at the edge of the makeshift stage as she danced to her own lyrics. Behind them was the guitar, resting in a handcrafted stand. It was a well kept guitar--all of Joel’s instruments were--with a fresh wood finish and polish, so shiny that Ellie questioned if Joel had ever even played it despite the scratched up guard and chipped edges that spoke that to its age. Oddly, Joel didn’t seem to be nearby, unless he was hiding in the darkness of the rafters, the only decent place to hide in a barn as full to bursting as this one was.

Maria followed her gaze up to the loft. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to play?” she asked. It was the third--no, _fourth_ \--time Maria had asked her, and the second time today. “I bet you and Joel could come up with something nice. You could borrow Tommy’s guitar.” She held out a plate of random pastries from the buffet.

Ellie waved her off. “Hard pass. I told you last time, country isn’t my thing.” True for the record, even though it was the majority of what she could actually play. 

Maria sighed. “Okay. Well, don’t leave before Joel’s set. I’m sure he’d love to have your support.” 

“Yeah. Sure.” 

The older woman hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “I won’t pretend to know what’s goin’ on between you two, but you can’t keep avoidin’ him forever.”

“I’m not avoiding him.”

“You’re not avoidin’ him like I’m not avoidin’ Tommy’s stupid poker group,” Maria said. She put the plate down on the bar and crossed her arms. “Don’t you think it’s been long enough?”

“I--”

“Maria!” Tommy came from around the bar and clapped his hands onto Maria’s shoulders. “There you are. Come on, can’t have you holding out on me again,” He bent around her to grab the plate, winking at Ellie when Maria couldn’t see. “I’ve been waiting all year for these, you can’t deny me them now.”

“Thanks, Tommy,” Ellie mouthed as he steered Maria away. Small talk, she could handle. A Maria cross-examination was probably worse than having a party with three clickers and a bloater. She rubbed her tattooed arm idly as she watched them leave; sometimes she wasn’t sure that Maria hadn’t figured out her secret.

 _Her secret_. It felt odd, putting it like that. Sometimes, she nearly forgot about it herself--the tattoo had that effect. The tattoo, the face mask in her backpack, the bite checks after each patrol, they all just cemented her complete and utter normalcy. 

“Normal, huh?” she mumbled, tracing the elegant lines of the tattoo down from her elbow to her wrist, feeling the hidden, mottled pattern of the chemical burn underneath.

“I hate these things,” A shadow fell over her as Jesse dropped his weight against the bar, the heavy wood groaning a bit as he did. She followed his gaze to the dance floor, where Dina was still with Harry/Henry. Ellie wasn’t sure who he was referring to more--Dina, or the dance--though it brought her some relief to find him as focused on Jackson’s dancing queen as she was.

“Tell me about it.” 

Jesse glanced at her. “Your old man really laid into me today. Another big lecture about my patrols… Don’t go here, don’t go there,” he paused, lips turning up into a more genuine smile. “It’s funny how involved he gets when you’re scheduled to go out.”

“Yeah,” Ellie looked down at her glass. Part of her wanted to apologize, _again_ , but if anyone understood the situation it was Jesse, though that didn’t make it any less embarrassing. 

Fortunately he didn’t linger on the subject long. “She’s ah, putting on quite the show.” The song was winding down, and Ellie looked up in time to catch Harry/Henry dip Dina down low, her hair skimming the floor as she elicited a squeal. As he swung her back up, she threw her arms into the hair, catching the tail ends of the colorful streamers that dangled from the rafters, looking very nearly like something out of a fairytale book.

“I give you guys two weeks before you’re back together.”

“Not a chance.” Jesse paused. “Did she uh, say something to you?”

Ellie scoffed. “Make it one week.”

“Ellie!” Dina approached with a bounce in her step and a warm flush across her face. “Hey. What took you so long?” She took Ellie’s half-empty glass and finished it off in one fluid swing before swiping a napkin from the bar to dab at her sweat-slicked skin.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Ellie folded her hands together, only half aware that she’d begun chewing on the corner of her lip.

“Dina.” Jesse looked coolly at her--or as coolly as he could after Dina’s display. Ellie bit down harder on her lip to hold in a laugh. 

“Jesse,” Dina hardly glanced at him before grabbing Ellie by the wrist, her touch white-hot over Ellie’s tattooed skin. “Come on,” Dina haphazardly deposited the glass onto the bar before tugging Ellie towards the crowd, her grip an iron vice.

“Hey--Don’t forget we leave at first light, so, get some rest!” Jesse called.

Dina rolled her eyes. “Yessir!” Glancing back, Ellie caught Jesse sigh as he finished his own drink and walked away. 

Maybe it would be two weeks.

“You’re such a dick,” Dina let go of her wrist just long enough for Ellie to frantically wipe her palms over her pants, desperately hoping Dina wouldn’t notice how clammy they were as she took Ellie’s hands and placed them around her waist. If she did, she didn’t mention it, instead draping her own arms lazily over Ellie’s shoulders and beginning to sway back and forth to the music, a more gentle rhythm now than the upbeat swing tune from before. 

“Don’t you start with me,” Dina scolded, nudging Ellie’s knee with her own until she joined her in her languid movements. “Okay,” she said after a moment, “I have a _very_ serious question for you.”

“Uh-huh…”

“How bad do I smell?”

“Uh…” Ellie leaned in for a mock sniff. Even if Dina did stink, it’d be damn hard to tell inside a tightly packed barn full of men, women and children after another long day’s work. No matter how much labor she did, though, Dina always managed to smell pleasant. It wasn’t quite perfume, nor soap--it was something else, something natural, almost like the smell of fresh bread or newly cut wood. But she wasn’t going to admit that. Dina would probably laugh her ass off if she did. Instead, Ellie leaned back and pursued her lips in contemplation before carefully answering, “Like… Hot garbage?”

“Oh?” Dina’s brows raised playfully. “Okay,” She leaned in before Ellie could extricate herself, rubbing her sweat-slicked cheek thoroughly against Ellie’s own. “How about that?”

“Gross!” But Ellie was laughing, just loudly enough for Dina to hear her over the soft background instrumental. 

Dina smiled. “You love it.”

Ellie was fighting hard not to swallow back the lump in her throat as Dina rested against her shoulder, so close that her dark hair tickled Ellie’s nose. There had always been something _different_ about Dina. Dina was the type to keep Old Nan company with poetry, but also the type to write swear words in freshly fallen snow with the kids; she was the person who would toil day and night to expand the perimeter wall, only to tag it with spray paint when no one is looking. Except Dina could get away with anything with charm alone. She’d once stolen three horses, a couple of guns and a whole slew of rations just to bring Ellie and Jesse out north to the mountain hot springs, and after Joel and Edith finally tracked them down she managed to not only convince them to stay for a few days longer, but to make it a yearly trip.

In all the ways Ellie was completely and wholly _normal_ , Dina was exceptionally _different_ , and Ellie was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. And so, unfortunately, was everyone else.

“Every guy in this room is staring at you right now,” Ellie breathed. Harris--she wasn’t quite sure why it was _now_ that she could remember his damn name--was practically shooting daggers over the head of his current dance partner. That wasn’t so bad as the look Jesse gave her from across the room. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking more lost than a sheep without it’s flock in the moments before he averted his gaze and pretended to be busy with the hem of his shirt. She’d have to apologize, later, so he didn’t get the wrong idea. 

Dina shifted her head up, her lips grazing Ellie’s ear. “Maybe they’re staring at you,”

Ellie snorted. “They’re not.”

“Maybe they’re jealous of you,”

“I’m... just a girl. Not a threat.” Although as the words came tumbling out, she suddenly felt less sure.

They were so close to each other that Ellie could see herself in Dina’s eyes, could feel Dina’s breath meet her own--though Ellie was hardly breathing as the woman in her arms reached up and caressed the side of her face, tucking that stubborn lock of hair over her ear before rubbing her thumb over the nape of Ellie’s neck. Such simple, light touches, and yet she felt electricity run down her spine, and struggled not to shiver.

And then Dina kissed her.

Dina’s kiss was slow and somehow urgent at the same time, with full lips moving gently over Ellie’s own, tongue grazing her lower lip, silently seeking permission even though she’d already staked her claim. Any lingering thoughts on Dina’s intent melted away when Ellie saw her eyes were closed--Dina was entirely in the moment, as was her way. Calloused fingers against her neck pulled her in slightly, just enough so their noses pressed into each other and Ellie could see the light blue veins of Dina’s eyelids and smell the fragrant alcohol on her breath, and it was only then that it really occurred to her what was happening:

 _Dina is_ kissing _me._

And then:

_Fuck._

It was exactly as she’d imagined it would be. And the fact that she’d imagined it before would have lent itself to embarrassment, or shame, or maybe guilt, if she had any room left in her head to think, but instead in that moment everything was the warmth of Dina’s body against hers, the press of their lips together, the fluidity with which Dina responded when Ellie _finally_ started to kiss her back, closing her eyes as the knot in her throat dissipated into a lingering sigh of contentment. 

“Oh Ellie... I think they should be _terrified.”_ Dina murmured, breaking off the kiss with a soft peck and a playful, infectious smile that had Ellie nearly in agreement, until a gruff voice interrupted from behind.

“Hey! This is a family event.”

Fucking Seth. The old man stood there glaring at them as though his angry eyes alone could vaporize them into thin air, and close enough that Dina nearly backed into him in surprise. Seth spent so much of his time frowning at people that it had permanently creased the corners of his mouth and eyes; even when he was asleep in the rocking chair in Maria’s diner he looked like he was pissed at something. Ellie often imagined that he was having nightmares about his rapidly receding hairline. She had no idea how someone that filled with directionless hate had made it this far into the literal apocalypse, and yet here he was policing two girls at a damn dance party.

“Sorry,” Dina glanced back at Seth, who hadn’t moved; his tiny, shrewd eyes were looking between the both of them in a way that would have been creepy if not for the vein that was nearly popping out of his forehead. “Sorry!” Dina repeated and turned to leave, pulling Ellie along by the hand.

“Remember next time there’s kids around,” he called after them.

“Yeah, like you’re setting such a great example.” Dina scoffed.

“Oh, just what this town needs, another loudmouthed dyke.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie spun on her heels, pulling her hand free from Dina’s grasp. She’d tolerated a lot of Seth’s shit over the years for the sake of ‘keeping the peace’, but the way he was leering at Dina was practically a challenge. “You mother--”

Dina tugged on her arm. “Ellie, don’t--”

“Get the hell out of here,” It was Joel’s voice that stopped her in her tracks. He lunged out of nowhere, firmly planting two hands on the old man’s chest and shoving him back several steps into a nearby couple. He was advancing before Seth could recover, one hand balled in a fist and the other steadying the guitar slung over his back.

“Get your hands off me--”

“Hey!” Maria squeezed past the couple and interjected herself between the two men. “That is enough,” She focused her stern glare on Joel. “No need to get all riled up.”

The band had stopped playing with all the commotion, and the ensuing silence was deafening. It felt like one of those three-way standoffs in those grainy, black-and-white cowboy films Joel and Tommy used to show her: Joel, Maria and Seth pitted against each other in the Wild West. Except Joel and Seth didn’t really stand a chance. Maria was the sheriff of this town. She alternated between staring them both down until Tommy appeared by her side, clapping a hand on Seth’s shoulder and breaking the tension: “Let’s get you outside for some air.”

“What about them?” Seth protested. “They were--”

“You worry about yourself,” Tommy said, herding him towards the barn doors. Ellie could see the shift in Joel’s shoulders as he relaxed, just marginally, as the pair walked away and Maria stepped back.

Ellie struggled to release her own tension. Everybody was staring-- _ definitely  _ staring at  _ her _ \--and her feet felt frozen in place, still half positioned to lung forward and strike. She would have, if Joel hadn’t showed up. 

“You alright, kiddo--?”

“What is wrong with you?” She snapped out of her reverie, turning to glare at Joel before he could move any closer.

Joel hesitated with his hand half outstretched. “He had no right--”

“And you do? I don’t need your fucking help, Joel.”

Ellie didn’t want to see the hurt in his eyes, but she did, briefly, before he looked at the nearby crowd somewhat helplessly, lips parted to make way for words that he didn’t seem to have. It made it that much harder to square her jaw and meet his gaze, desperately clinging to last dredges of the anger that had energized her just moments ago. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity--the real stand-off, the errant voice in the back of her mind said.

Joel cleared his throat. “Right,” he finally said. He stepped back, head slightly bowed as he said lowly, “Goodnight, then,” He hesitated, glancing at her once more with that same helpless look--but she grit her teeth, and said nothing. She watched as he retreated, slipping out the barn doors and disappearing into the darkness.

“Hey,” Ellie jumped, just slightly, as she felt Dina’s hand land on her shoulder blade. “Seth’s a dick. Don’t let him ruin the night,” Dina said. 

Ellie shrugged her off. “Yeah.”

Dina masked her frown with a flourish to the bar. “Come on, I hear there’s two old fashioned’s with our names on them.” Dina extended her hand. “I won’t tell Jesse if you don’t.”

“Uhm…” Ellie clasped her hands together. “Actually, I should probably go. I think I’ve done enough damage for one night. I don’t really need Jesse harassing me for patrolling hungover on top of it all, you know?”

“Ellie, you don’t have to--”

“Yeah, I do.” She forced an apologetic smile. “Look, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Dina hesitated, but didn’t fight back. “Okay,” she said, dropping her arm to her side. “Tomorrow. Don’t be late, or Jesse’ll harass you anyways,” 

“Yeah,” Ellie's thoughts were a scrambled mess with only one directive: to run away before she exploded. So she did just that, leaving her goodbyes unspoken as she escaped into the back of the barn, stopping only long enough to retrieve her jacket before fleeing out the side door behind the bar. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep reading for a preview of the next chapter...
> 
> It's been hard to figure out where exactly to take the story from here. I keep changing my mind. Some part of me wants to go hog-wild and just tell the story I really wish they'd give us, but another part of me still really loved so many of the moments the game gave us and just want to relive it in a way that hurt me a little bit less. You know how there's good hurt and bad hurt? It *hurts* to see Ellie struggling to forgive Joel, yet still willing to try... and it hurts in an entirely different way to see Joel die the way he did and Ellie lose herself the way she does... I have to keep reminding myself that the first hurt is what makes the story so captivating, even though it's been weeks since release, and it's the second kind of hurt that I kind of want to rewrite. Maybe if I can actually finish this damn thing, I'll let myself go AU and write the story where Joel dies in her arms and she moves on without all the loss ):
> 
> Although don't get me wrong, any AU I'd write would still fuck Ellie up. It wouldn't be The Last of Us without pain.
> 
> \--
> 
> Hey, she wanted to say. Instead she crossed to the railing, where she could lean forward and look out to, well, anywhere except him. She rubbed her hands together, pretending they were shaking because of the cold.
> 
> Joel settled beside her. From her periphery, she could see the mug in his hands--the beige one with the owl that she’d found in one of the houses their first Christmas at Jackson. She’d bartered a plate of Maria’s cookies in exchange for the shiniest red ribbon she had ever seen, and then wrapped it around the handle in her best attempt at a bow and gave it to him at breakfast at the Tipsy Bison. Ellie focused on that memory--maybe if she wasn’t so focused on the now, she could get her stupid mouth to open.
> 
> “What’re you drinking?” Smart, Ellie. That doesn’t sound stupid at all.
> 
> “Coffee.”
> 
> She frowned. “Where’d you get that?” It’d been awhile since there had been any coffee in Jackson.
> 
> “Those people that came through last week…”
> 
> “Oh,”
> 
> “A little embarrassed as to what I had to trade to get it, but… it’s not bad.”
> 
> Ellie finally managed to lift her gaze off the horizon to look at him. It was dark, and the shadows cast by the dim light from inside the house weren’t particularly favorable, but she could still make out the bags under his eyes and the wrinkles, the crease in his forehead and the crows feet that stretched into greying sideburns. How long had his hair been this pale? It was streaked with silver, and longer than she’d ever seen it, with a fringe nearly scraping his eyebrows. It felt like she was looking at an entirely different person, except for the scar on his nose--at least that largely hadn’t changed.


End file.
